


Within White Walls

by softyjseo



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospitals, Illnesses, Kun volunteers at the hospital, Love, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Poetry? I think?, Slow Burn, Ten is ill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29844177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softyjseo/pseuds/softyjseo
Summary: Kun knows that he comes here voluntarily, that he has no right to complain about the bare white walls that surround him every time he enters the building, but he can’t help but feel dreadful as he stares at the white walls, watching the children run around in their colorful pajamas.Kun volunteers in a hospital, entertaining the children with his magic tricks and games. In that hospital he meets Ten, a man in a beanie that doesn't know better than the hospital walls that have surrounded him all his life.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86





	Within White Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andnowforyaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/gifts).



> HEYOOOOO
> 
> Ahem. yes. Angst. Also! Happy ending, so not to worry! And Kunten, because they're just *chefs kiss*. This fic is also dedicated to yaya! Check our her writing, she's fucking phenomenal. 
> 
> Warnings:  
> This story mentions cancer and its treatment. If you can't read stories surrounding that topic I suggest you click away. I want you to take care of yourself first and foremost. You are important to me and so is your mental state. If you have lost someone around you to this terrible, terrible disease I offer you and your family my condolences and several hugs.

Kun knows that he comes here voluntarily, that he has no right to complain about the bare white walls that surround him every time he enters the building, but he can’t help but feel dreadful as he stares at the white walls, watching the children run around in their colorful pajamas. 

The contrast between the laughter of the children, the colors they wear and the white walls is baffling, and Kun hates it on most days. The children don’t deserve to be surrounded by white walls, connected to whatever monitor or machine by a string. They deserve to be free, to run around schoolyards and grassfields with their friends. 

They deserve to grow old, and the knowledge that some of the children that Kun sees every other day won’t grow old, ever, is heartbreaking. 

The children have these beads that are connected to a piece of string, one that they are given on their first day in the ward, and Kun has watched some of them grow terrifyingly long until they are cut from the IV’s that they roll around with. Kun has watched some children go home with them wrapped around their necks, their parents holding their hands, but he has also seen a nurse give the string to a crying mother or father. 

The memory of it is heartbreaking, and Kun hopes he won’t have to see such a thing for a while. He only comes in a few days a week to help keep the children entertained, so he is never really updated on the things they go through unless the children tell him himself, but as far as Kun knows, none of the children in the ward are currently losing their battle. 

The nurses and doctors call them battles, and Kun can’t help but agree with the term. The children he shows his magic tricks to suffer more than Kun ever will in his life, and the thought is painful at best. 

Kun is just packing up his pack of cards, listening to a young girl called Hyejin talking about the drawing she had made while some of the other children had watched a movie after lunch. Her voice is bright as she talks, doing justice to her name, and Kun tries his best not to pity her. 

It’s hard not to with kids ranging from ages four to nine, but Kun tries his hardest not to pity these children, or feel bad for them. The things they go through are terrifying, painful and sorrowful, but Kun isn’t here to make these children feel even more sad. He is here to provide them with smiles, with laughter and fun stories, and according to some of the lovely nurses, it helps. 

“That looks lovely, sweetheart.” Kun says as Hyejin points one of her tiny fingers at the sun in the corner of the drawing, and she smiles at him. Her hair is getting thinner every time Kun sees her, the strands divided into two pigtails, and Kun knows that one day he will walk through the doors and be greeted with her without any hair. 

“Thank you oppa!” She says, her big grin displaying her two missing front teeth before she rushes off again while holding onto her IV-pole with one hand and the drawing in the other. Kun can feel his knees starting to strain and so he stands up, slinging his backpack around his shoulders. 

Kun turns his head, trying to find one of the nurses, and finds Yuqi standing near one of the bookcases lining the walls, putting a few back in their places. Kun moves toward her, trying his best not to startle her, and taps her shoulder. 

She turns her head and smiles at him, and Kun returns it. The nurses are incredibly kind-hearted, but Kun supposed that is a trait that one needs to work with children — especially ones that have lived most of their lives within hospital walls — and Kun can’t say he hates it. In his lectures and classes he is always surrounded by cranky students or annoyed professors, and so the kind nurses of the children's ward are a nice change of scenery. 

“I’m going to head out, if that’s okay with you.” Kun says, his voice soft so that the children don’t hear him, and Yuqi nods. 

“That’s okay. We’ll see you again on Saturday, right?”

Kun nods at her, adjusting his backpack strap on his right shoulder. “I can stay an hour longer, if you guys need it.”

Yuqi closes her eyes, “You’re a saint. Wendy-unnie brought muffins, make sure to take one from the kitchen down the hall before you go, okay?” 

Kun nods at her before turning around, making his way through the living room of the ward. Most of the children are either making their way back to their rooms by themselves or accompanied by a nurse and Kun waves a few of them goodbye, watching them go down the hall. 

Kun prefers the children’s ward over the rest of the hospital. The children’s ward has color, fun paintings on the wall and poems that entice hope — mostly for the parents, Kun guesses — and it’s wonderful to be around. Better than the white walls that surround the usual wards, at least. 

Kun walks down the corridor that leads to the exit and the kitchen, taking one of the muffins and neatly wrapping it in a paper towel before putting it in his backpack. He will most likely lose it to Yangyang once he gets home, Kun knows, but he still takes extra care of making sure the muffin doesn’t get smudged in between his school books and his equipment. 

Just as Kun walks out of the kitchen and through the exit that leads to the young-adult/adult ward, he bumps his shoulder against someone else. “Shit, sorry!” 

Kun turns his head to look at who he bumped into and is met with a face that should be on the cover of Vogue, not walking around in the halls of a hospital, and Kun feels his heart speed up just a little bit at the look that the boy gives him. He looks slightly uninterested, one hand holding on to an IV pole that Kun knows all too well by now while the other is limp by his side. 

“You’re alright.” The boy says, shifting a little bit. “Do I know you?” 

Kun frowns. He can’t remember ever seeing this boy before. He would have remembered a face like that. Before Kun can reprimand himself for thinking like that, the other boy opens his mouth again. “You’re the magician that entertains the kids!” 

Kun’s eyes widen before nodding. He can feel a shy smile forming on his lips, scratching at the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. I’m not a real magician, though.” 

The boy huffs, “I figured that much. You don’t look like one.” 

Kun chuckles, “What do I look like, then?” 

“A college student.” The boy answers, pointing at Kun’s backpack with the hand that isn’t holding onto the IV pole, and Kun hums. He isn’t one exactly, but he will give the boy this one. 

“Not wrong. What about you?” 

The other boy’s small smile turns into a grimace and Kun feels his stomach sink. He shouldn’t have asked that question to someone who seems to be quite deep in treatment. Kun isn’t a doctor or nurse by any means, but he can see by the beanie that the boy is wearing and the way his hands are slightly shaking that he isn’t one hundred percent healthy, at least. 

“No. I wish though. What’s your name?” 

The boy seems eager to change the subject and Kun allows him to, even though he really needs to get home in order to cook dinner for Lucas, Yangyang and him. “Kun, and I think it’s hyung for you. What about you?” 

A smile appears on the boy’s features once more, and Kun finds relief flooding through his system. “I think you’re right, hyung. And my name is Ten.”

Kun nods, bowing his head ever so slightly. He would love to chat with Ten some more, but before he can say anything about having to leave, Ten turns his head toward the children ward. “I have to go now, though. It was lovely to meet you, hyung.” 

Kun hums, waving at him. “See you around, Ten.” 

Ten nods at him, waving back before turning around and walking away. Kun watches him go, one hand still on the IV pole that Ten is connected to, and he doesn’t stop watching until Ten is further down the hall, close to the living room door of the ward. Once Ten is out of sight, Kun shakes his head and turns around himself, ready to leave. 

Kun finds himself looking around for Ten the second he enters the hospital through the main entrance, even though he knows it is stupid. It’s a saturday and the parking lot is packed with cars of visitors, and Kun has to meander his way through groups of people to get to the staircase. 

He can’t really help himself, though, as his eyes keep moving around the corridors and halls around him, trying to find that same beanie in the crowd. Kun doesn’t, though, and arrives on the fourth floor with his lungs screaming at him and no Ten in sight. He should really take up Yukhei’s offer to go to the gym sometime, Kun notes, even though he knows that he probably won’t accept the taller’s offer any time soon. 

When Kun pushes the door that leads to the children's ward open, the noise around him picks up. The rest of the hospital is always respectfully quiet apart from the waiting areas and the main hall, but Kun has found that the children’s ward makes enough noise for the rest of the hospital. 

He walks through the corridor, making his way to the living room as he holds onto the strap of his backpack. Kun sees a few parents walking around with their children and he has to dodge nurse Yerim who’s walking through the corridor with an empty wheel-chair, and she laughs at him. Kun laughs back at her, throwing her a shy wave before moving forward again, pushing open the door toward the living room.

Kun sighs and looks around the room before he freezes, his gaze falling upon the beanie he had seen three days ago. Ten is sitting on one of the adult-sized chairs, a little boy Kun recognizes to be Jisung on his lap. Jisung is giggling, playing with some of the rings on Ten’s fingers, and Ten has a smile on his face. 

His smile is far brighter than the one he had given Kun when they first met, and it is oddly nice to look at. The children smile all the time, but Kun hasn’t seen a lot of the sick adults in the adult ward smile. It’s nice to see that some of them still can, despite their situation. 

“Kunnie-oppa!” Kun’s focus is pulled away from Ten — who still hasn’t noticed him for his eyes are too focused on Jisung — by Heyjin bounding toward him, her IV-pole gone. Kun can’t help but smile, glad that she is recovering well from her last chemo, and he opens his arms for her to jump in. 

“Hello Heyjinnie, how are you?” He asks, petting her hair as she wraps her small arms around Kun. He can feel her hair has gotten thinner, but he doesn’t stop petting her hair until she lets go of his neck and Kun is able to put her down. 

“Good! Are you going to read to us, oppa?” A few more children have gathered around Kun now, and Kun smiles at all of them. He doesn’t see any new kids and for that he is grateful. It’s always painful to see a child for the first time, scared and fearful of the unknown. 

“I am! I brought a ton of books!” He replies, taking his backpack off and bending down until he is on his knees, displaying the inside of his bag to the handful of curious children. 

“You’ve come prepared.” Ten says and Kun raises his head to look at him before nodding. He allows for the children to look inside and grab some of the books. There aren’t any dangerous items in his bag, luckily, and so Kun doesn’t worry about standing back up and leaving his bag with the kids. 

“Always.” Kun replies, allowing for his gaze to drop down to Ten’s lap where Jisung is still sitting, his eyes focused on the crowd of children huddled around Kun’s bag, and Kun smiles. 

“So you’re a magician and a story-teller?” Ten asks, a small mischievous smile on his face, and Kun chuckles. 

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” 

“Aren’t we lucky, Jisungie?,” Ten looks down at Jisung, the toddler looking back at Ten at the mention of his name, and he nods. Kun doubts Jisung has any idea what Ten is talking about, but he finds it endearing nonetheless. “Kun-hyung can do magic tricks and tell us stories!” 

Jisung nods again before he tries to scoot away from Ten, clearly done with sitting in the elder’s lap, and Ten helps him down carefully. Kun watches Jisung walk over to the rest of the group shyly, Wendy now standing among them. 

Kun can hear her asking the children if they dutifully took their medications and whether they want anything before the stories start, but he finds himself not really paying attention to it. Instead, he looks at Ten sitting in a bright purple chair, still connected to his IV-pole, and Kun scratches his neck as he clears his throat. “How are you?” 

Ten huffs, “Shit.” 

Kun’s eyes widen and he whips his head around to check whether the kids heard that. He is met with Wendy still talking to them, handing out cups of lemonade and such, and he sighs with relief. 

“That’s not good.” 

“Nobody in this place feels good.” Ten retorts, and Kun supposes he could be right. Nobody comes to the hospital for joy, after all. Ten makes to stand up, his hands using his pole as weight, and Kun rushes up to help him. Ten bats his hands away, though, and Kun awkwardly retracts his hands.

“You’re leaving?” He asks, and Kun really wants to hit himself across the head. 

Ten raises an eyebrow. “You want me to listen to fairy tales?” 

Kun shrugs, “They’re not all fairy tales.” 

Kun actually doesn’t know if he brought stories that aren’t fairy tales, but he figures Ten doesn’t need to know that. Ten is eyeing him with one eyebrow raised still, before he shrugs. “It beats sitting in my room alone.” 

Kun feels a strange surge of relief wash through him at the knowledge that Ten is going to stay. He tries to shrug it off, though, Johnny’s words from the night before echoing around in his head. 

Kun had told Johnny about Ten when he went over to visit the man at his apartment the night before, and Johnny had listened with a frown on his face before saying that Kun probably shouldn’t try anything for there was a huge chance that Ten wouldn’t survive whatever he was dealing with. 

The thought of it had made Kun’s chest constrict, but Kun knows that Johnny is right. He’s met Ten only once, anyway, and Ten probably isn’t looking for someone to take him on a date right now. 

“Kun-oppa?,” Kun is pulled out of his thoughts by Wendy’s voice. He turns around to look at her with a small smile, a dozen pairs of eyes on him from the children sitting on their pillows on the floor, and Kun pushes away any other thoughts he has to think about later. Right now, he has to make these children happy and feel like they aren’t in a hospital but instead in an enchanted forest or a castle with fairies, even if it is just for a few hours. 

“Let’s get started.” He says, walking over and taking a seat in the wooden chair in front of the children. He takes one of the books from his bag before looking across the room, making eye contact with Ten. Kun clears his throat, a sudden surge of courage making him wink at Ten, before he focuses back on the book and opens his mouth. 

Sometimes it feels like the walls are closing in on him. Despite the fact that he’s been in the hospital for so long, whether just for check-ups or actually living there, Ten still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of being in the hospital.

According to his therapist, one that is provided to him by the hospital, Ten is holding himself back from feeling at home in the hospital. Ten doesn’t particularly know what the woman means by that, but he just lets her talk during their bi-weekly meetings and steals a cup of hot chocolate from the nurse kitchen on his way back to his room. 

The truth is, Ten doesn’t want to feel at home in the hospital. He wants to leave as soon as he can when he is finally healthy and officially in the green. He has so many things he still wants to do, places he wants to see and memories he wants to make, and so it feels odd to even think about calling the hospital his home. 

He rubs his face with one of his hands, sighing to himself as he sits on his bed. Breakfast is already over and Ten knows that one of the nurses on his floor will probably make him eat more lunch in retaliation, but the thought of food alone makes Ten want to puke. 

That’s one more thing Ten has never gotten used to — the side effects of chemo. He doesn’t mind the fact that he has to wear a beanie every single day now. His mother had given him several ones with different colors and people don’t stare at you weirdly for wearing them. The other side effects, though, make Ten want to pull out his IV and run for the hills.

Not that he can run, really. His energy has completely depleted from his treatment from yesterday, and Ten can barely move his legs as it is. He feels bad, for he knows that some of the children love to see him during the day, but once he can walk again he notes to visit them again.

For a second Ten allows himself to guess whether Kun will be there too before he pushes that thought away. Butterflies erupt in his stomach and Ten knows that those are not because of the chemotherapy and the need to vomit, and he groans. He has only seen Kun a handful of times at this point, the older boy reading to the children or showing them his magic tricks, and somehow Kun has managed to stick around in Ten’s mind despite that fact. 

Kun is a sweetheart, Ten can see that. He is amazing with children, can make them smile in the most devastating time of their lives, and Ten wishes he had had someone like that when he was six years old and the cancer first showed up in his blood. 

The truth is, he feels kind of pathetic thinking about Kun. They have talked, sure, surrounded by children and sometimes nurses, and Ten couldn’t stop listening every single time, but he doubts Kun has any sort of interest despite pity for Ten, and that’s the thing that hurts the most. 

It always seems to go that way. When people learn of what Ten has, how his body functions, their friendliness and kindness morphs into pity, the need to help simply out of guilt, and Ten has dealt with that enough times in his life to know that no matter how nice it is to have someone’s attention, it always hurts in the end. 

Ten remembers walking onto the schoolyard after not being able to go to school for over seven months. He remembers the look in his friends’ eyes that had gone from excitement to see him to pity within a second. 

Ten closes his eyes. He can hear the noises of the hospital around him only if he focuses on it, for he has gotten used to them to the point where he no longer hears them during the day. He can hear the nurses walking around down the hall, the footsteps of visitors trying to find the room their loved one is in. 

A small portion of him wonders whether Kun might be wondering where he is. Ten knows that Kun is supposed to come in today, that Wendy and him are going to perform a puppet show for the children, and a small portion of him wonders whether Kun will look for him in the room just like he had done when he read to the children. 

That was already a week ago, Ten muses to himself, and he finds the energy to flash a tiny smile into the emptiness of his room. He has cards hanging on his wall from old classmates, ones he hasn’t spoken to in months, and a few from family members. The one Ten’s mother gave him has a song in it which Ten played over and over again to the point where it no longer works, and Ten finds himself wishing for his mother, suddenly.

Ten manages to lift his arm to take his phone off of his nightstand and he isn’t surprised to find that he has no notifications apart from his phone telling him that his iCloud storage has run out.

He sighs before putting his phone back on the nightstand, turning to look at the door that leads into the hallway. Ten wants to walk. He wants to walk across the ward and through the doors where he will find the children’s ward, a place far more cheerful than the one he is in. 

“Christ.” He whispers to himself, throwing his head back against his pillow. The nausea has gone down a little bit but his heart is starting to hurt, and Ten wishes he could just sleep until it is all gone. Sleep until the nurse comes into his room to tell him that he can leave, that he is healthy once more and that he can do whatever he pleases. 

Ten reaches out for his small journal, taking hold of the pen holding onto the front of it, and opens it. 

“ _The rolling fields_

_I will never see_

_The winds that_

_I will never feel._

_Will you caress the leaves for me?_

_Crunch them with your feet?_

_I shall watch you from above,_

_Smile down on you_

_Until you are ready._ ” 

Ten browses through his journal, his fingers lingering on the drawings he had done, and the hope to have them on his skin grows in his chest. Ten would love to have a tattoo, one he drew himself, and that is part of the reason why he wants to walk through the hospital doors and never come back one day. 

Before Ten can put his journal away, he hears a knock on the door. He puts the book back onto the nightstand before clearing his throat. “Yeah?” 

“Can I come in?” 

Ten deflates, recognizing the voice of one of the nurses on his floor. “Of course.” 

Ten watches as Joohyun walks in holding on to a platter, and Ten feels the need to puke crawl back up his spine. He can see the hospital meat, the rice that barely has any flavor and the vegetables that are passable, and Ten wishes he could eat his mothers’ cooking again. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like death.” Despite the fact that Ten wants to be healthy he has learned not to lie to his nurses. 

Joohyun simply smiles at him before putting the platter of food down, revealing a chart underneath. Ten wants to roll his eyes but stays quiet as she scribbles some things down, things that Ten doesn’t even want to know. “Did you sleep well?” 

Ten nods, “Yeah it was alright.” 

The walls felt like they were closing in on him a few minutes ago but now that there is someone else in the room, Ten can feel them receding again. 

“Good to hear. I brought you breakfast. If you can’t keep it down, that’s okay, but try to eat at least something, okay?” Joohyun’s eyes are friendly and Ten wonders what she does when she is home, who she hangs out with and if her friends like her. Ten likes her — Joohyun is one of the younger nurses, one below the age of forty, and she has always been nice to him — and he hopes that others do, too. 

Ten hums, “I will. I won’t promise anything, though.” 

Joohyun smiles again before patting Ten’s knee. “That’s alright. If you do eat something, though, you may be able to visit the children's ward again.” 

Ten nods and waits until Joohyun has done her regular check-up on him before he is left alone once more, the thought of the children’s ward and Kun in the back of his head as he eyes his breakfast on the dark blue platter. It doesn’t look appetizing at all and the thought of putting food in his mouth makes Ten want to run, but he reaches out for the bowl of vegetables and meat anyway.

Kun is surprised to see Ten sitting in the living room of the children’s ward again. This time Jisung is sitting close to him, scribbling away on a small notebook with several colored pencils scattered across the floor around him. 

Relief washes over him when he sees that Ten looks alright, eyes focused on a book in his lap, and Kun doesn’t even want to think about what that feeling means. 

He talked about it with Yangyang and Lucas a couple nights before, and both of them had seemed like they were curious about Ten. Then again, the both of them would be able to make friends with just about anyone, to Kun’s great chagrin but also joy. It’s always nice to have people in their apartment, and Yangyang and Lucas have enough friends to go by. 

Taeyong, a friend Kun had made in college, had seemed more hesitant when Kun told him about Ten, though. And Kun supposes Taeyong has the right to be, considering the fact that Ten is sick, but Kun doesn’t really want to think about that. 

“Ten!” He says when he is closer to the other boy, and Ten looks up from his book with a small smile. Kun eyes the book and notices that it is a journal instead, the handwriting in it neat in some places and scribbled in other areas. Ten closes it, though, before Kun can properly read what it says, and Kun looks back up at Ten’s face. 

“How are you?” 

Kun wants to hit himself for asking such a dumb question, but Ten doesn’t look bothered. Instead, he puts the journal in between his upper-thigh and the chair, and flashes another smile at Kun before shrugging. “Doing alright. I hope I didn’t miss too much last time.” 

Kun shakes his head, “Only a few card tricks and two stories.”

Ten hadn’t shown up the last time Kun had been in the children’s ward, and while it had worried Kun at the time, he should have known that Ten was probably getting treatment. 

“That sounds like fun though. I won’t miss it next time.” 

“You were getting treatment, weren’t you?” Kun asks, reaching over to take one of the smaller wooden chairs and taking a seat. He put his bag on the ground, the lack of children around him making it easier to do so, and he hears Ten shifting beside him. 

“I was recovering from it, actually.” Ten’s voice is soft, just above a whisper, and Kun feels guilt clamp his throat for the smallest of seconds. He gets to walk out of this room and go back home after playing with the children for a bit. Ten just has to walk back to his room, nowhere else to go. 

Kun looks around, the other children still not there, and he sighs. “That must have sucked.”

Ten scoffs, “You’re the first person that didn’t say ‘I’m sorry.” 

Kun swallows. He can’t imagine what it must be like to live like this, seeing the pity of others every time you look at them. He forgoes telling Ten that he had almost said ‘I’m sorry’ and instead just shrugs. “Figured you had heard that plenty of times before.” 

Ten chuckles, “Yeah, you’re right about that.” 

Kun wants to say more, wants to ask Ten what he does when he’s bored or what he loves to eat, but the door toward the hallway opens and Yuqi and Wendy walk in, holding the hands of several little children. Jisung peers up from his notebook and jumps up, walking over to the two nurses. Kun watches as he reaches up, holding the drawing he made above his head, and Yuqi crouches down to look at it. 

“They’re too young.” Kun then states before he realizes it. 

Ten hums, “far too young. People like you make it easier for them, though.” Kun doesn’t know why he flushes at Ten’s words but he can feel the heat in his cheeks start to grow. He clears his throat and Ten laughs. “I’m not lying.” 

“Sure you’re not.” Kun jokes, hoping that Ten can’t see the red of his cheeks or the way his hand is now slightly shaking. Kun has never been good at accepting compliments, even as a little kid. Especially not when they catch him off guard. 

“I think,” Ten says, moving his arm to point at something, “someone wants your attention, hyung.” 

Kun raises an eyebrow at Ten before turning his head to look at where Ten was pointing, only to see Hyejin looking at him with a small smile on her face. Kun wishes he could stay and talk with Ten some more, but he also knows that that might be weird. He nods, standing up from the wooden chair, and ignores the sting in his back from the discomfort. “I suppose I should go and talk to her.”

“You go do that.” Ten says, giving Kun another small smile before Kun finally manages to pull himself together and turn around, away from Ten. 

The children are quick to swarm him, Heyjin on the front-lines. Kun tries to focus on them with his full attention span, helping them with their drawings and putting on a show of a few tricks he taught himself a few weeks back, but Ten somehow always creeps back into his mind.

The fact that Ten is watching doesn’t help Kun and he messes one or two card tricks up, but the children don’t seem to mind. Kun listens to them telling stories about their parents and friends, and he feels Ten’s eyes on him from time to time.

Ten joins in after a bit, finding a spot with a book and a few kids move to listen to him read instead. Kun finds himself stopping the movement of his pencil on the drawing Minjeong had asked him to make, listening to the sound of Ten’s voice. 

“He’s cute, right?” 

Kun whips his head around only to be met with Yuqi standing there, holding onto a few notebooks, and Kun flushes. “What?”

Yuqi snorts, “Oh come on, oppa. We all know you think he’s cute.” 

Kun turns his head to look at Ten again, a boy named Yongbok now sitting in his lap, and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach. He swallows, though, wishing them down before he looks back at Yuqi and shakes his head. “You’re seeing things.” 

Yuqi raises an eyebrow. “Am I?” 

Kun nods, confident. “You are.” 

Yuqi shrugs, “Alright.”

Kun watches her walk to one of the small tables and put the notebooks down, but his ears are still listening to the sound of Ten’s voice while he talks to the children. Kun smiles to himself as he hears Ten’s pitch raise higher or go down, imitating several different voices or at least trying to, and it’s adorable.

“I’m seeing things, sure.” Kun jumps as he hears Yuqi close to his ear, and he swats at her. 

“Aren’t you supposed to work?” He retorts, and she snorts. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” 

Kun shakes his head before turning back to his drawing. He manages to finish the right wing of the cartoon dragon around the castle tower. Before he can reach for a new pencil, though, Wendy walks back into the room. 

“Everyone, you need to take your medication.” 

It’s a sentence Kun has heard many, many times before, but it feels like a bucket of water emptying itself above his head every single time. When the children are just playing around, it almost feels like Kun is working at a daycare, perhaps a kindergarten. The children don’t really think about the fact that they are sick, that they are ill, and that makes it easier to forget. Kun swallows, putting his pencil down and raising his head to look at Wendy. 

“But we want to hear Ten-oppa’s story!” Hyejin exclaims, her hand resting on Ten’s ankle. Kun looks at Ten’s face and he sighs. Ten looks just as shocked about Wendy’s statement as Kun had been, and he feels bad. He wants to reach over and take Ten’s hand, but before that thought can grow any bigger, Kun pushes it away. 

“Sorry sweetie,” Ten then says, closing the book, “We’ll finish it later, okay?” 

“Speaking of, Ten, I ran into Joohyun-unnie and she wanted me to ask you to come back as well.” 

Kun watches as Ten’s face goes from a small smile aimed at the children around him to a frown, the corners of his lips turned downward, and Kun feels his heart constrict. “Did she say why?” 

Wendy shakes her head, “No. But I think you should hurry.” 

“Welcome back, hyung!” 

Kun puts his backpack down next to the shoe rack, toeing off his shoes before he straightens back up and walks down the short hallway into the living room. Yangyang and Lucas are sitting on the couch, their faces focused on the television, and Kun rolls his eyes. 

“Hello to you too.” He says, shaking his head. 

“How was the hospital?” Lucas asks, not taking his eyes off of the screen. Kun doesn’t mind, though, and instead moves to take a seat on the floor next to their coffee table. He shrugs. 

“It was alright — Jisung is getting discharged upcoming Friday so we’re going to organize a party for him.” Kun answers. Lucas and Yangyang know some of the children’s names, having listened to Kun talk about them quite a lot, and when he turns his head to look at his two roommates on the couch he can see that they are both smiling. 

“That’s great! Still no Ten, though?” Yangyang asks, and Kun sighs. He feels his stomach drop, feels guilty for even thinking about Ten while in the hospital at all because it was supposed to be all about Jisung and the fact that his cancer had gone in remission enough for him to go home. 

“Nope, still no Ten.”

Kun feels ridiculous for being worried, for feeling it in his chest, but he can’t make it stop. Ten and him haven’t exactly become the best of friends during Kun’s volunteer shifts at the children’s ward despite their easy chats, and yet Kun is worried about him as if Johnny was the one in the hospital. 

Kun shakes his head, trying to get rid of that thought, and instead turns to look at Yangyang and Lucas. Lucas’ smile has turned into a slight frown, and Kun bites his lip. “What are you thinking, Lucas?” 

Lucas’ eyes widen, as if caught thinking about something he shouldn’t be, and he shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Kun has known Lucas long enough to know when the younger is lying, and so he purses his lips and inclines his head. “Come on, tell me.” 

The noise from the videogame suddenly stops and Kun eyes Yangyang who is now holding the remote, and he manages a small smile. Lucas sighs, “What if — what if he’s gone?” 

Kun feels his heart sink in his chest, and he moves his eyes away from his two roommates to look at the floor to ceiling window. It’s already getting dark again, winter still closing in and taking hold of Seoul despite the fact that February is coming to an end, and Kun frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean that — what if he’s dead?” Lucas’ voice wavers and Kun raises an arm to place his hand on the younger’s knee, and he squeezes. The thought of Ten having passed on makes something in Kun’s chest snap, and he hates the thought of it already. 

“Or he got discharged?” Yangyang quips, the tension in the room getting thicker, and Kun hums. 

“That’s a possibility too.” Kun says, feeling his heart ache in his chest. The possibility of Ten being healthy and released makes his heart do a flip, but there is a bitter taste in his mouth that Kun can’t quite place. Perhaps he had had some hope that Ten would tell him, if that is the case. 

Kun knows that Ten doesn’t owe him that, but he thought that perhaps they had at least become somewhat friends during the time they spent together. 

“Or what if he’s gott—”

“Alright guys, that’s enough.” Kun says, getting up from the floor. Yangyang and Lucas share a look before looking at him but Kun shrugs it off, turning away to make his way to the kitchen. 

The sound of the video game starts back up and soon enough the apartment is filled with Yangyang and Lucas yelling at each other. It’s the distraction Kun needs, he finds, and he gets started on dinner. 

The thought of Ten finally being out of the hospital makes him happy, his stomach fluttering with butterflies, but he hates that he has no idea where Ten is, now. Kun berates himself for never asking for Ten’s phone number, for his address or even his room number. It never came up during their conversations, and Kun had grown used to Ten just being in the children’s living room before Kun arrived himself. 

Kun can’t help but feel a little stupid, selfish perhaps, for never enquiring about Ten’s world. They always talked about different things, but never about Ten and who he is, what he wants to do. All Kun knows is that Ten doesn’t want to be looked at with pity and that, when he can, he wants to travel as much as he can. 

Kun sighs, putting the knife that he is holding down and gripping the countertop. Kun honestly doesn’t know what he will do if he learns that Ten is gone, that he will never come back and that Kun will never see him again. Because despite the fact that they had only had casual chats, surrounded by children and a couple times in the hallway, Kun has grown to like Ten, and he can’t make the butterflies in his stomach stop from fluttering. 

“Have you asked the staff, hyung?”

Kun jumps at the sound of Lucas’ voice, and he whips his head around to look at the taller standing in the doorway. “Christ, Lucas!” 

Lucas raises his hands, and Kun sighs before nodding. “Yeah, I have. None of them know and I can’t walk up to the damn receptionist because of privacy.” 

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “I thought you would know what room Ten was staying in?” 

Kun closes his eyes, rubbing his temples. “No. I never thought to ask.”

“Well— maybe you will see him again? In the future?”

Kun knows that Lucas is just trying to cheer him up, that he wants to offer nice words to make Kun feel better, but he knows that the possibility of meeting Ten somewhere else, ever, is close to zero. 

Or one in a million. Kun has never been good at math. 

“Maybe, yeah.” He says despite his thoughts, turning back to the chicken on the cutting board. “How were your lectures today?” 

Lucas groans, leaning against the doorway. “Boring. The usual.” 

Kun chuckles, taking the knife back in his hand and starting to cut the chicken again. He remembers having to sit in lecture halls, bored and not sure what he was even doing there. He’s thankful that his parents allowed him to take a gap year to try and figure out what he wanted to do, and while Kun still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do, he has realized he likes working with children more than he thought he would. And it’s always fun to listen to Yangyang and Lucas complain about their own lectures while Kun doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. 

“Just a few more weeks till you get a few weeks off.” Kun then says, and he listens to Lucas scoff before he hears his footsteps leaving the kitchen, and Kun is left alone with his utensils and the chicken on the cutting board. 

Weeks pass by like they’re mere days. Once his friends start summer break, Kun is swept into a constant stream of hang-outs, late night trips to clubs he can’t remember the names of and days on the road. It’s nice to have his friends over at the apartment so often, to see them relaxed as the stress-free weeks settle into their bones, and Kun finds himself enjoying it. 

He goes to the hospital, entertains the children and helps the nurses as much as he can before he heads home again. Once home, he usually spends his evening with his friends or watching a movie by himself, and Kun feels content.

There is the feeling of Ten nibbling at his insides, constantly in the back of his head, but Kun tries to ignore it as much as he can. He has no idea where Ten is, whether he is even alive at this point, and if Ten doesn’t want to contact him, then Kun needs to get over him. Those were Johnny’s words, but Kun knows he is right no matter how much he doesn’t want for Johnny to speak the truth. 

Kun finds himself enjoying his work with the children more and more, and when Wendy tells him that he could become an elementary school teacher, or work at a kindergarten, something clicks within. 

It takes a lot of research and googling, deep into the night, but Kun finds out he is eligible for a course that specializes in children in kindergarten. It doesn’t start until August, so Kun has plenty of time left, but when Kun finally sends his last email to confirm his participation in the course, it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

The day after, when Kun goes to the hospital again, he brings a cake to celebrate. Over the weeks, the walls have grown dull to him again, and the spring in his step is gone. Ten is no longer connected to the hospital and while Kun misses it, he feels ridiculous for even doing so. 

It’s not like Ten and him had become incredibly close over the few weeks they had known each other, but Kun can’t help feel like there was something about Ten, something special. Johnny is convinced it’s just because Ten was sick when they met. That Kun got the urge to care for him, but Kun doubts that’s true. He isn’t like that, or at least hopes he isn’t, and there had been much more about Ten other than his illness. 

Kun remembers Ten telling him about his journal, in which he scribbles poems and stories that don’t last longer than one hundred words. He remembers Ten talking about dancing, about his old schoolmates and his mother. Ten had been much more than his cancer, and Kun wants to remember him as more than just that. 

He isn’t sure what Ten is connected to anymore, now that he is no longer tied to the hospital. There isn’t a place in Kun’s head that Ten is connected to, where he belongs, so Ten floats around in his head. During the day, when he is busy with the children or with his friends, Ten floats around. Some nights, when Kun lays in bed and watches cheesy dramas or movies, Ten stops floating and sits still in his head. It makes Kun think, whether Ten is floating around somewhere too, or if he had survived and had created roots somewhere. Had finally been able to sit still. 

Kun can’t imagine what life must be like living with cancer, and so he doesn’t try to. He doesn’t try to figure Ten out, doesn’t try to find him. If Ten is no longer alive, it would be wasted energy. Not that Kun thinks Ten is a waste, but he prefers the thought of Ten finally being able to travel, to see the world like he has always wanted to. If Ten is alive, it is all Kun can do to assume he doesn’t want to have contact with Kun, and Kun tries to respect that. 

Perhaps he reminds Ten too much of the hospital, which Kun can understand. He knows that Ten liked it when he came by, when Ten had something else to focus on than the misery of the children or his own, and while the thought warms something within, he also knows that at some point, Ten had probably envied him. Or had been jealous of him. For Kun could always go home, walk out of those doors a healthy man, and Ten has never known that certainty before. 

Ten had told Kun a bit about his life, and to this day, Kun can’t even begin to phantom the amount of months Ten has spent in a hospital. The cancer started at a young age, presented itself as leukemia, and once that had gotten treatment and Ten was able to go back to school, he had already turned nine years old. After three years, if Kun remembers correctly, a tumor came back and the leukemia did, too. 

While Kun spent his younger years playing with his school friends, playing tag in the school yard and stressing for tests as he got older, Ten had spent his childhood in hospitals and clinics. If Ten is alive, Kun can’t exactly blame him for taking off without a word. He thinks he would do the same, after all. Spread his wings and fly, see what the world has to offer. He hopes Ten is doing exactly that, discovering what the world has in store. 

“You’re deep in thought.” 

Kun jumps slightly, the book in his hands dropping back onto the table. He groans, grabbing the book again, before turning to a grinning Lucas. “You scared me.” 

Lucas cocks an eyebrow, “You zoned out. Is the book that interesting?” 

Kun rolls his eyes, reading the cover of the book. It’s a recipe book, he notices, and he puts it down on the stack with the others. “No. Did you manage to find what you wanted?” 

Lucas hums, holding up two books. “Do you think Renjun will like these? Sicheng-hyung said he probably would.” 

Kun sighs, shaking his head. “Why do you ask me, then?” 

Lucas shrugs, “Because I want to be sure.”

Kun tries not to roll his eyes again. The bookstore is growing busier as several people rush inside to avoid the rain, shaking their umbrellas. Kun supposes there is a worse store to walk into to wait out the rain. “I’m sure Renjun will like them just fine.” 

Renjun’s birthday is in a week, and since he is Sicheng’s little brother, Lucas has been fussing about getting him a gift for about a month. Sicheng and Lucas aren’t completely official yet, but Kun doesn’t think it will take much longer for the two of them to finally work it out. It’s cute, though, how Lucas worries so much. 

“Did you want to look around?” Lucas then asks, dropping the two books into the small basket he is holding. Kun shrugs, moving his head to look around the store. He doesn’t particularly wish to go outside and get soaked, so he nods. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Kun moves toward the novels and listens for Lucas’ footsteps. Once he is sure the other is following him, Kun relaxes and turns to look at the spines of the books. He hasn’t read a proper novel in a while, has mostly spent his time reading web-comics and the likes, and he can practically hear his mother cheer him on in his head as he eyes the books and their genres. 

“Oh! They have an independent writer section!” Kun turns his head slightly at the sound of Lucas’ voice, and he raises an eyebrow. Lucas is standing next to a table, neatly decorated with all sorts of books. Kun walks up to him, completely forgoing the novels as his eyes scan over the table. 

The covers look stunning, some of them enthralling enough for Kun to pick up. He notices a solid black hardcover with the slight imprint of a snake on it, and he picks it up after putting a bright orange book down. He turns it around in his hand, letting the pages fall open with ease. 

“ _For you have given me your all,  
My dear.  
For there is nothing my heart wants more,  
Then to fall asleep next to you._

_As the rain creates a symphony on the windows,  
Let us fall asleep.  
Tangled up in one another,  
My heart is yours to keep.” _

That’s certainly something else, Kun notes. It isn’t what he would usually read, but perhaps he should start reading poetry and the like if they all sound like this. Before he can call out for Lucas to ask for the basket, he turns the book back around. 

“ _Lee Ten._ ” 

Kun’s eyes widen. That can’t be. There is no way that that is the same Ten as the one he met all those weeks ago in the hospital. The same Ten who wears a beanie to hide his head, the same one who laughs with the children and disappears out of nowhere. 

Kun doesn’t allow for hope to gather in his chest. Instead, he holds the book against his chest as his eyes search for Lucas somewhere in the store. He finds Lucas standing near the adult-colouring books, and by the time they are ready to check out with far more than they had planned on buying, the rain has stopped and the sun is peeking through the clouds. 

“ _There are words  
Spoken within the walls  
They travel like birds  
Echoing through the halls_

 _The walls are white  
The ones we shared  
They remind me of the fight  
That had my teeth bared._”

Kun still carries the book of poems with him. Some aren’t really poems, for the words don’t always rhyme, but Kun doesn’t mind. He likes the words, likes the way they resonate with him without him really knowing why. He finds himself reading it before bed, as the darkness falls across the city and Kun is left with no one but himself and his thoughts. 

The weeks pass by with the ease of summer, and before Kun knows it he’s packing his bag for his first day of lectures. He can hear Lucas and Yangyang do the same from their rooms, the music Yangyang usually plays in the morning echoing through the apartment. The sun is already rising in the sky, the summer heat still very much present, and Kun picks a thin t-shirt to wear with a simple pair of jeans. 

He’s nervous, but his friends and mother have assured him time and time again that that is healthy. That it isn’t something he should be worried about, and only see as a good thing. Kun doesn’t particularly see it as a good thing, but he isn’t all that bothered by the nerves to begin with. He’s more excited to learn, to finally do something worthwhile and something that can make him feel like he’s doing something that means something. 

There is the option to learn further after Kun finishes this program, to learn to become a middle school or high school teacher, but Kun doubts he will do that. He prefers to work with the younger kids, the ones he entertained in the hospital. But, he can’t look into the future, and perhaps he will change his mind along the way.

For now, though, Kun walks to the train station alongside his friends and gets on the train. They chat for a little bit before both Lucas and Yangyang get off, and Kun is left sitting by himself. The morning rush has long faded, most of the people already at work, and Kun relishes in the quiet of the carriage as the train continues on. 

Sadly, due to the workload of the course, Kun had to say goodbye to the children in the hospital. Kun knows that Yuqi and Wendy had been sad to see him go, but there had also been a certain level of pride in their eyes. Kun had promised to come see them as soon as he could, and perhaps an internship could be arranged in the future. 

Kun knows he will miss the children. He won’t miss the hospital, the constant beeping of machines and the knowledge that some of the children in the ward aren’t going to live past the age of six, but he will miss the smiles and the laughter the children always carried around him. 

Children are so flexible, so open-minded and loving, and Kun feels himself getting more excited at the thought. Working as a kindergarten teacher isn’t a CEO, or some rich businessmen position, but Kun doesn’t mind. He has been blessed with parents who support his every decision, and it has never really been about a career for him. He doesn’t mind that some people might look at him as less of a man — which, in his opinion, is absolutely ridiculous — because he will enjoy it. 

Kun gets off at the right stop and finds himself on a busy street. He follows the throng of people and keeps checking his phone for the right directions. He finds the building in around ten minutes, the sign that says ‘Children’s Education’ impossible to miss. Kun sighs to himself, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes. He steels himself before pushing the door open, the air conditioning of the building washing over him almost immediately.

Goosebumps appear on his skin and for a second, Kun regrets the choice of t-shirt. Before he can really start to doubt himself, though, he looks around and startles. The amount of people standing in the lobby of the building is astonishing. Kun had expected perhaps ten students, for the course was centered around smaller classes, but if Kun is counting right, he spots twenty different people. 

Perhaps they aren’t all for his course. He swallows, straightening his shoulders once more, before he steps forward and walks towards the group. The last email he had gotten stated that he needed to go to the second floor, the fourth room on the left, and that that would be his lecture hall. Kun has no idea where the stairs are and while he looks around, his vision gets blocked by the several people around.

He breaks away from the group as soon as he can, pushing through the crowd before he can finally walk down the hallway. He finds the stairs around the corner and the fourth room on the left has its door open, so Kun walks in without thinking about it and nerves in his stomach. 

A handful of students are already there, their bags on their desks and heads already turned to talk to one another. A lone person sits by themselves, their head leaning forward as he looks at what Kun assumes to be either his phone or his tablet or something. Kun sighs, he can choose to sit by the group of people that are already talking, but by the looks of people he doubts he will be able to join the conversation. So, he moves to the back where the lone student is sitting, and he sits down at the desk next to him. 

The person doesn’t look up. Instead, they turn their phone around and hide the screen against the table. Kun raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he opens his backpack and gets a notebook out with his pencil case.

A few moments pass with neither of them attempting a conversation. For a second, Kun regrets sitting down next to the person as the group of students get louder with laughter, but he shrugs that off. He isn’t here to make friends, per se. He already has those. It would be nice to have a friend in his class, though. 

“Excuse me,” Kun raises his head from where he had been looking down at his phone, turning his face to look at the person sitting next to him. He recognizes the voice from somewhere, but he can’t exactly place who it belongs to. Perhaps he has heard it in a commercial, or one of the dramas Lucas watches. “Did you buy the books already?” 

Kun’s eyes widen. Suddenly, he recognizes the beanie sitting on top of the person’s head. It’s a deep burgundy, hiding the person’s head except for the small baby hairs peeking out at the back of their neck. “Ten?”

Kun knows his voice is shaking, but he doesn’t care. The sudden surge of hope that courses through him is nearly far too overwhelming, making his toes curl in his shoes and his heart beat faster in his chest. Kun watches as the person raises their head from where they had been looking at the table, and he recognizes the slope of Ten’s nose, the plumpness of his lips, and he gasps. 

“I can’t believe this!” He exclaims, perhaps a bit too loud considering the now steady stream of students that make their way into the classroom, but Kun doesn’t care. All he cares about is the fact that Ten is sitting right next to him, very much alive and looking far better than he had in the hospital the last time Kun had seen him. His cheeks look less hollowed out, his eyes brighter, and Kun sighs in relief.

“Hi, hyung.” Ten whispers, and Kun feels his heart flutter. There are no words to explain how he feels with Ten sitting by his side, looking healthier and happier than Kun has ever seen him, and he merely smiles. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Tennie.” 

Ten smiles, the one that makes his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch, and Kun can’t wait for their first class to end so that they can talk. So that they can catch up. Kun has a lot of questions, including ones about Ten’s poems and whether they are his to begin with, but for now he allows for small talk to flow between them with the well-known ease of before. 

When the teacher walks into the room, Kun is forced to focus on something else other than Ten. It sucks, but he listens and takes notes. It isn’t a particularly harrowing class, mostly filled with information they might need along the way, and before Kun knows it Ten and him are walking to the exit of the building, standing outside in less than a minute. 

“Would you like to grab a coffee with me?” Kun asks Ten before Ten can say anything else, and it feels absolutely exhilarating. He has wanted to do this since the first time he saw Ten all those months ago, and now here they are. With Ten very much alive and looking eager to nod. 

“Yes, hyung. I’d quite like that.” 

The warmth Kun feels at his answer is ridiculous, but he doesn’t push it away. Instead, he takes Ten’s hand in his and pulls him along, the giddy feeling in his chest so prominent Kun doesn’t know what to do with it. He lets it exist, though, and feels Ten’s hand squeeze his. 

**Author's Note:**

> and that is it! comments and kudos are always, always highly appreciated! please let me know what u thought!
> 
> or find me:  
> [feel free to say hello on twitter!](https://twitter.com/softyjseo)  
> [or leave a message in my cc!](https://curiouscat.me/softyjseo)


End file.
